The Swimmer

Sadness swims inside of me.
Doing the backstroke across my heart. Flipping and repeating,
gracefully kicking backwards
as it observes where it has been.

Back and forth – seldom resting. When did my heart become a pool?

I wrote an invite to Joy
to come visit and perhaps stay.
She wrote back and said
the swimmer is too annoying,
that he has to go before she’ll consider.

I think about draining the pool.
Knowing I’ll die if I do.
How do I tell him he’s no longer welcome?

I called up Peace to see if he’d want to come for awhile.
He said he’d stop by now and then but that the constant splashing interrupts his tranquil thoughts.
He wouldn’t commit to staying long.

Perhaps I’ll post a schedule for the swimmer, letting him know when the pool is open and closed. Surely he’s tired and could use a rest.

Though she didn’t talk until she was three, Barbara is a lover of words both spoken and written. A rather late bloomer in both learning to speak and in learning to trust her inner voice and in finally feeling comfortable enough to write down her stories, she feels blessed to be making the journey towards healing and wholeness. She’s looking forward to continuing her journey of transferring her thoughts into written form and sharing them with others. She’s thankful to be part of the Red Tent community.